History has it that an amphibious car was designed by Hans Trippel and manufactured in the 1960s in Germany. Personally, I have had the opportunity to actually see such vehicles in James Bond movies. Recently, I went through a terrifying experience in my car, which turned amphibious by sheer necessity than by choice.
The Northeast monsoon had just broken over Kerala. It had rained cats and dogs continuously in Kochi for about five hours the previous evening and also through the night. Rain or shine, being doctors, my wife and I had to reach the hospital we worked in on time. We found the road before our home reasonably motorable despite the heavy rain, thanks to the efficiency of the drain that had just been constructed. But just as we turned right to hit the highway that took us to our hospital, we found the road further ahead inundated.
Cars moved slowly through bumper-high water. Two-wheeler riders, unable to ride the vehicles, had a testing time wading through knee-high brackish water, taking care not to fall into yawning potholes on the road mauled by an above-normal Southwest monsoon that had just left Kerala’s shores.
We decided to take an alternate route to reach the highway. My wife, an expert on bylanes in the neighbourhood, directed our driver into a narrow lane. Terror then struck. We found our car suddenly drowned in bonnet-high water. There was only one option before us—to move forwards. And move forward we did, with the accelerator in full throttle. I heard my driver pray as the car sliced through the water. I watched in terror as the waves sped past the window on the side. Angry pedestrians cursed us for almost drowning them in huge waves. Cars and two-wheelers stranded in the water had us slow down, giving us unnerving moments. We had to ensure the engine didn’t stop. The uncertainty of potholes and uncovered drains added to the odds as the car ploughed through the water. Riding shotgun, I joined the driver in his prayers. We both knew only that would get us to the safety of the highway.
Water seeped into the car, flowing freely beneath the front seats. With my wife squatting on the rear seat, and I, riding shotgun, with my feet dangling from the dashboard to avoid getting wet by the water making waves inside the car, we finally reached the hospital.
Dr George Jacob
Email: earaly@hotmail.com